Gravy
by liketheriver
Summary: Eventually you realize it's all gravy from here on out. Response to Tipper's Poetry challenge. SheppardMcKay friendship.


_a/n This little ficlet is in response to the poetry challenge issued by Tipper. It takes place after McKay and Mrs. Miller but before The Return in season three so spoilers upto and including M&MM._

Gravy

by liketheriver

_No other word would do. For that's _

_what it was. Gravy._

_Gravy these past ten years._

_Alive, sober, working, loving and _

_being loved by a good woman. Eleven years _

_ago he was told he had six months to live _

_at the rate he was going. And he was going_

_nowhere but down. So he changed his ways_

_somehow. He quit drinking! And the rest?_

_After that it was all gravy, every minute_

_of it, up to and including when he was told about, _

_well, some things that were breaking down and _

_building up inside his head. "Don't weep for me,"_

_he said to his friends. "I'm a lucky man._

_I've had ten years longer than I or anyone_

_expected. Pure gravy. And don't forget it."_

"_Gravy" by Ray Carver _

xxxx

"Gravy," Sheppard had said. There was no other word for it as far as the man was concerned.

Rodney, however, did have another word for it.

Cursed.

He was absolutely, positively cursed. Actually, they were absolutely, positively cursed. As evidenced by sitting, once more, in the infirmary waiting on word from Carson.

He'd had the ZedPM in his hands. In his freakin' hands and he'd lost it. But this wasn't the first time that had happened, although then they hadn't had a chance to shoot their way out. Then, someone he had trusted had taken it from him. Then, it had been a slip of the tongue. He had opened his mouth and admitted to Allina that they weren't Ancients, that they had discovered Atlantis and weren't the rightful owners. And evidently, the Brotherhood didn't take too kindly to squatters.

This time it had been something along the same lines. Artifacts of the Ancestors were evidently hard to come by. And when his team tried to take what they had rightfully bartered for with a crate of antibiotics and a promise to build a new water treatment system for the township but were stopped halfway back to the gate by a band of robbers that included the Minister of Technology (can we say delusions of grandeur?), he couldn't seem to let go of the precious commodity he had held in his hands.

Much like the nine millimeter he still clasped as he sat in the waiting room with the rest of his team…the remainder of his team. "Is there any word yet?" Teyla's voice had him looking up dazedly.

Gravy, he thought silently. That was the only word.

"They're still in surgery." The white scrubs the nurse wore were in sharp contrast to the black gun he was staring at and he found his attention returning to the soothing darkness of the weapon.

"Thank you," Teyla smiled politely through her worry.

Running a thumb across the textured grip he couldn't for the life of him figure out why he hadn't given it over to Ronon when he had offered to take it when they first came back through the gate. It was just a thing. Things could be replaced. Right? It wasn't even like it was his own gun anyway. Although the way Teyla's eyes flicked between the gun in Rodney's hand and Ronon, who just frowned harder, as if he knew that he would have to move quick if bad news came from the physician, keyed Rodney into what his own subconscious was apparently keeping from him. But if anyone could understand the concept of gravy it was the Satedan. Problem was, Ronon hadn't been part of that conversation McKay had had with Sheppard as the two of them watched the injured man's blood flowing so freely.

The first thing he had thought when the men had stepped out of the woods and onto the trail was, what did I say this time? He hadn't let anything slip; had kept the conversation strictly to where the best locations for the wells and solar panels would be. And he most definitely hadn't tried to flirt with the man that was to oversee the construction. As far as he could figure, he had done everything right this time.

But, then again, he had thought he had done everything right when they were trying to build their own ZedPM using the methodology he and Jeannie had developed. And what had that earned him? A meeting with a funhouse mirror reflection of himself that got along with his own sister better than he ever had and one less ZedPM. And seeing as they only had one on hand, that wasn't a good thing. In fact, that was a very, very bad thing.

So, when the locals had pulled guns on them and demanded the "light of the Ancestors" be returned, he couldn't seem to loosen his grip. Atlantis needed it. These people needed clean water and a lesson in personal hygiene. A ZedPM was useless to them.

It had taken Sheppard to pry the device from the scientist's hands even as he forced a smile at the men with guns. "You can let go, Rodney. I'm not going to drop it," the Colonel had grit between his teeth while simultaneously trying to pull the power source from his teammate and keep an eye on the guns aimed directly at McKay.

"Actually, I can't," Rodney had countered. Because he had rerouted everything he could think and they still didn't have enough power in the city.

"Yeah, you can." And the sympathetic understanding he could see in Sheppard's eyes only made it harder to let go. "There'll be other ZPMs."

"Colonel, Atlantis needs this," he had pleaded.

But long fingers were already peeling his away from the power source. "Atlantis needs a lot of things, McKay. And you're just the man to figure out what they are."

And then his hands were empty and he was staring longingly at the device even as Teyla was turning him toward the gate and ushering him past their glowering Satedan teammate.

"Okay, you have the artifact. We expect this to be the end of it. No one needs to die over something like this… on either side." Sheppard's statement held much more warning for the longevity of the men threatening them than he seemed to feel for his team. They had the superior weaponry and if the locals hadn't caught them in an ambush, they never would have had the upper hand.

Once it seemed the coast was clear, Sheppard and Ronon caught up to Rodney and Teyla. "Ronon, you and Teyla scout ahead. Make sure the gate's clear."

"They're trailing us, Sheppard," Ronon had mumbled even as he checked his gun.

"Yeah, I know. I'm hoping they're just making sure we don't try anything before we leave. But the last thing we need is to be cut off from our only means of escape."

The warrior had nodded his understanding, then he and Teyla had moved off ahead. Rodney watched them go and shook his own head in disbelief. "I can't believe you just gave them the ZedPM."

"Well, Rodney, seeing as they were going to shoot you, I didn't really see that we had much choice." Adjusting his P90, Sheppard continued with a good-natured grimace. "I mean, seeing as I've met the person I'd have to write the letter home to now, it makes it harder to throw you to the wolves."

"It's nice to know that if nothing else, Jeannie's visit guilted you into keeping me alive." The rolled eyes narrowed in worry when Sheppard's teasing expression morphed into a thin-lipped frown. "Colonel?"

"Be ready, Rodney."

"Ready? Ready for what?" Glancing back over his shoulder, he could just make out a figure moving through the trees. "What do they want now? They have the ZedPM."

"I'm not sure. Maybe they're afraid we'll try to come back and take it."

"Well, we should. It's rightfully ours. We paid for it fair and square." And if he said that last a little too loud, then so be it.

Sheppard glared at his strident words. "It doesn't really matter right now. What does matter is that they've been slowly gaining on us and I'm starting to doubt they plan to just shadow us all the way to the gate."

"You know, just once, I wish we could catch a break." Rodney unclipped his holster so the gun could come free if necessary. And, honestly, when you got right down to it, that shouldn't be almost second nature to an astrophysicist.

"We've caught plenty of breaks, Rodney. But I sure wouldn't mind just one more."

"I'm not talking broken bones here."

"Neither am I."

"Really? Then enlighten me on all the breaks we've caught?"

"That we had a fully charged ZPM in the first place. When we walked through the gate from Earth, we didn't know what we'd find and we sure the hell didn't find a ZPM. We survived for almost a year without one and now we at least have the Daedalus and when you have your gatebridge finished we'll have a way to evacuate the city back to Earth if necessary."

"So what are you saying?" Rodney huffed. "That I've gotten soft since we first arrived?"

"I'm saying you're like one of those guys that whines because he can only afford a new Beemer instead of the Mercedes when just a few years before he was eating Ramen Noodles for three meals a day."

"It's all relative," he mumbled with a defensive sniff.

"It's all gravy is what it is."

"Gravy?"

"Yeah, gravy. I know you know what that is; I've seen you eat enough of it."

"I'm aware of what gravy is, Colonel. What I can't figure out is what it has to do with living with a charged ZedPM for a little over a year."

"You're the genius, McKay, you'll figure it out eventually."

"Yes, because I have nothing better to do with my time than decipher your obscure food analogies."

But at that moment he did have something better to do because that's when they heard the gunshots coming from the direction of the gate, as well as the first shot from behind them as Sheppard, who had been walking beside him, was suddenly on the ground with a bullet wound to his leg.

"Any word yet?" Elizabeth entered the waiting room and sighed when she received a shake of a head in response.

"They are still in surgery." Teyla's response had Ronon standing and pacing the small space.

"What's taking them so long anyway?"

"I'm sure Carson is just being thorough." Elizabeth justified to the Satedan. "This isn't something we would want him to rush, right?"

"It can't be good if it's taking this long."

"Ronon, Dr. Beckett told us it was an artery that was hit and that is would be delicate work to make sure it healed properly."

Teyla's explanation did little to calm the large man. "We need some fresh air in here."

"We can call you on the radio as soon as Carson comes out," Elizabeth offered, but the glance Teyla and Ronon exchanged had her looking to Rodney and the gun. "Rodney, I'd feel better if you put the gun away."

"It's just a thing, Elizabeth." And it was. Just a thing, like so many other things they had had over the years they had been on Atlantis. The only difference was that this was Sheppard's thing, in more ways than one. He carried it everywhere. It had saved Rodney's life on more than one occasion. It was how the Air Force officer solved problems. And there was something…comforting about the weight of it as it sat across the physicist's leg.

"Still, I'd feel better if you didn't have it out."

Rodney snorted humorously. "Guns don't kill people, Elizabeth. Gravy kills people." It sure as hell had done a job on Sheppard.

Sheppard had managed a spray of suppressive fire from his P90 that had their attackers scattering. It was enough to let Rodney get an arm under him and pull him to his feet. They darted into the trees themselves, Sheppard firing randomly behind him and Rodney yelling into the radio as he fought to keep the two of them upright and moving, "Teyla! Ronon! We could use some help here!"

"We are a little busy right now ourselves, Rodney," Teyla responded tensely and he could hear Ronon's gun firing through the com.

"Sheppard's hit!" he screamed over the stutter of the man in question's gun.

"How bad?" Ronon demanded.

"Well, between running for my life and dragging him along, I haven't had a chance to perform triage!"

"Find cover. We'll be there as soon as we can."

Rodney couldn't respond as the weight suddenly increased against him when Sheppard threatened to go down again. Hefting him back up, he ordered, "Oh, no you don't."

"Log," Sheppard said and Rodney tried to pretend he didn't hear the slur in his voice.

"Yes, logs, trees, dirt, leaves. Nature abounds. Although it doesn't help us any."

"Get behind… that log." And he leaned harder.

Rodney saw what he was trying to point out; a large tree that had apparently fallen in a windstorm. Climbing over, he all but pulled Sheppard along with him, depositing the man in the loamy earth before firing off half the magazine of his handgun to try to keep their pursuers at bay. Dropping back down when they returned fire, he looked to Sheppard who was slumping weakly against the log. Rodney stripped off his pack to rummage for his first aid kit while simultaneously checking over his wounded friend.

"Oh, Christ, that's a lot of blood." The dark gray pants were black with it.

"I think… they nicked… an artery."

Sheppard's head lolled and Rodney grabbed his vest and shook him even as he ducked when a bullet sent bark stinging into his shoulder. "Hey! No slacking off here. I'm sick and tired of having to do everything myself." When the hazel eyes seemed to focus on him once again, he pulled a bandage, deciding to forego the pressure and go straight for the tourniquet.

"Bitch, bitch, bitch," Sheppard drolled with a feeble grin as McKay cinched the wrapping tight.

"Have to make a living somehow." Slapping another bandage on the entry wound itself, he ordered, "Keep pressure on it." He raised his gun and fired the rest of the clip. Ejecting the empty magazine he bowed his head to avoid the return fire and slammed another home. "Still think this is all gravy, Sheppard?"

"Actually, it is."

"You are unfuckingbelivable, Colonel." Not even raising his head again, he simply pointed the gun over the top of their shelter and shot some more. "We'll be dead before you can say 'meat and potatoes' much less 'gravy'."

"I should have been dead over a year ago when I went on that bomb delivery run to the Wraith ship. Hell, I should have been dead in Afghanistan. This is all just… extra. Gravy."

"Gravy?"

"Pure gravy." The smile faded as his eyes closed.

"Sheppard!" Reaching over a frantic hand he felt the pulse at his neck, weak but there. But he wasn't deluding himself that it would last for much longer. "Goddammit, this is not gravy! This is life!" And it was going to be the death of them both if Ronon and Teyla didn't show up soon. Even if they did, he doubted it would do Sheppard one damn bit of good. He emptied his clip, tossed the gun aside, and pulled the one on the thigh of his unconscious teammate, prepared to make a final stand behind a log on an alien planet where he had just had his hands on a ZedPM, and his best friend was bleeding to death and he was probably right behind him.

Gravy, his white Canadian ass.

And that's when Ronon came bursting through the woods behind him.

Carson entered the waiting room with a lot less flair than the Satedan, but he had all of them on their feet as soon as they saw him. "He's stable," he informed them with no preamble. "He'd lost a great deal of blood but we were fortunate enough to catch it in time and I've patched him up, so the prognosis is good."

Rodney suddenly couldn't trust his legs anymore so he dropped back down into his seat with a ragged exhalation of relief.

"That is wonderful news, Carson," Elizabeth beamed brightly.

"Yes, thank you," Teyla added happily.

Carson, however, didn't return the smile. Instead he stalked over to where Rodney sat and took the firearm from his hand. "No guns in the infirmary," he chastised before handing it over to Ronon. "Do something with this. I've seen the damage he can inflict to the architecture when he waves these things around. How you three allow him to carry a loaded one in the field and still walk in front of him is beyond me but I have rules that will be abided in my jurisdiction." Satisfied, the physician turned to go back into the patient area. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I want to make sure Colonel Sheppard is settled before I grab a bite of super. Rodney, are you coming or not?"

Rodney was still trying to figure out how he had lost possession of the gun when Carson asked the question. "What? To eat?"

Carson shook his head with an aggrieved sigh. "No, Rodney, to see the Colonel. He was asking after you when he woke briefly in recovery. If he sees that you're alive and well, hopefully he'll rest better."

"Oh. Yeah. Okay." It was all still a little dream-like hearing Sheppard was going to be okay and Rodney wasn't completely convinced he hadn't fallen asleep in the chair and was imagining the entire thing.

But when he entered the recovery room and saw Sheppard, pale and weak, but most definitely alive, he decided even his imagination wasn't this accurate. Given a choice, he would have pictured him sitting up in bed with a smart ass comment on his lips and a smirk on his face. This was almost the furthest from that he could get without going back to the man slumped limply against the log in the woods. Tubes and monitors and a pallid complexion on a totally unresponsive body were not what he was expecting. In confusion he looked to Carson, who was moving a chair over to sit next to the gurney Sheppard lay on.

"I thought you said he was asking about me."

"I lied." He patted the chair and waited for Rodney to move and sit in it. "Although personal experience has shown that you will be one of three people he'll ask about when he does wake."

"But why…"

"Because I've been so busy working to save my one patient, I just now had time to attend to my other one." The physician squeezed Rodney's shoulder. "It's not easy when you're sure there's nothing you can to do to save someone you care about. Believe me, that's something else I know from personal experience. And sometimes it takes a little bit of convincing to realize you did do something after all."

Rodney looked at Sheppard, looked at the monitors tracking his heartbeat, the line jumping along strong and steady, then looked up at Carson. "You didn't lie about the rest of it, did you? About how he was going to be okay?"

"No, lad, I didn't. You'll see for yourself after you sit here for a spell." The hand on his shoulder patted reassuringly. "I'll be in my office if you boys need anything."

And then he was alone with a man he was convinced was going to die. It was then that he realized that Sheppard had been wrong. The ZedPM, the technological advancements, the city of the Ancients, the ATA gene he had received, the Nobel he was bound to win as soon as they declassified the whole stargate program, all of that was the gravy.

But the friends he'd made since coming to Atlantis… the ones that were sitting in the waiting room to watch over Rodney as much as they were to wait for word on their fallen comrade, the one that would go against his own protocol and move a chair so Rodney could finish the job he had started out in those woods, the one that would take the most important piece of technology they could imagine out of his hands and give it willingly to a bunch of backstabbers so that he wouldn't be shot and then take the bullet instead… they were so much more than gravy.

They were warm chocolate chip cookies and a cold glass of milk. They were a fudge brownie and a good cup of espresso. They were chocolate mouse and German chocolate cake and a hot fudge sundae with sprinkles and an extra cherry. They were the reward for all the crappiness that had come before. And if he was smart, he'd enjoy them first before the gravy was even served.

They were…

"Dessert." Sheppard didn't respond to his revelation, but that was okay. When he woke up, because he was going to wake up, Rodney would have plenty of time to gloat about how his genius had not only figured out the man's food analogy but actually improved upon it, as well. "Pure dessert. And don't forget it."

And maybe he wasn't cursed after all.

The End


End file.
